Your Deepest Fear

by David Jackson

  Cody walks back to look more closely at the shackle. He sees that it is kept closed with a padlock. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out the third key.

  The key to freedom.

  Cody realises now that this key will open the padlock and free his captive.

  But he has no plans to do that.

  Not until he has heard what Waldo has to say.

  42

  ‘Stand up,’ Cody commands.

  ‘W-why?’

  ‘Just do what I fucking tell you to do, okay?’

  The man scrambles to his feet.

  ‘Over there,’ Cody says. ‘Hands up against the wall.’

  The man does as he is told. Cody kicks at the man’s legs, forcing them apart and taking his balance away should he decide to try anything. Cody then searches the man, turning out the pockets in the man’s navy-blue overalls and patting him down. He finds some house keys, coins and a wallet that contains money but no means of identification. Cody stuffs them all into his own pockets.

  ‘You ready to tell me your name yet?’ he asks.

  The man doesn’t reply. Doesn’t even turn his head to look at him. Cody punches him hard in the kidneys and the man collapses to his knees.

  ‘That’s just for starters. That phone call had better come soon. And you need to start praying that it helps you, because right now I am this close to beating the life out of you.’ He holds his finger and thumb a millimetre apart and shoves them under the nose of the man.

  Then Cody leaves. He closes the door, removes the key from the lock and ascends the wooden staircase. At the top, he relocks the door to the basement and removes that key too. He wants to be certain that his captive stays where he is.

  Only when Cody reaches his apartment at the top of the building does he collapse his baton. Surprises seem to be the order of the day, and he’s had his fill of them.

  He goes into his kitchen because it’s the door nearest the stairs. He needs to sit down, to think, even though his brain is mush.

  He hauls himself onto a stool at the breakfast bar. He looks straight ahead of him.

  And then his eyes mist over and he begins to sob.

  He doesn’t know quite why, but he cries like a baby. And when he’s done, he wonders whether this is all a dream. Wonders if all he has done tonight is sleepwalk from his bed to the kitchen.

  Because this seems so incredibly unreal, and he is so incredibly exhausted. He feels like he could go back to bed for a full day.

  And yet that can’t happen. He has unresolved business. Such as a homicidal clown in his basement.

  He almost laughs out loud at that thought. A killer clown? In my basement? Really?

  But it’s not funny, of course. In fact, it could be a monumental turning point in Cody’s life. That’s as serious as it can get.

  He wonders if he will let the clown live.

  Before the solemnity of that thought can sink in, Cody’s phone rings. It’s the call he has been told to expect. The call that could explain everything.

  He answers it. Says, ‘This better be good.’

  ‘Hello, Cody,’ says Waldo as usual. ‘I’ve called several times. Do I take it that you’ve been a little . . . busier than usual?’

  ‘Who is he, Waldo?’

  ‘Ah, you found him, then. It took you long enough.’

  ‘I found him. Who is he?’

  ‘Didn’t he tell you?’

  ‘He said he was one of the clowns.’

  ‘Then why are you asking me? You know who he is.’

  ‘What’s his name?’

  ‘You mean he didn’t introduce himself? How terribly un-British.’

  ‘His name, Waldo.’

  ‘Let’s just call him Clueless, shall we? I think that would be a good name in the circumstances.’

  Clueless the Clown. Yeah, very apt. But Clueless Cody is even more apt.

  ‘And he’s here why?’

  ‘Because your wish is my command. Because this is what you have always wanted. You want the clowns who hurt you. The clowns who killed your partner. The clowns who have ruined your life. I’m handing this one to you on a plate. Do with him what you will.’

  ‘And you’re handing him over to me because . . . ?’

  ‘Because I’m feeling generous. I think you deserve a break.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘You’re such a cynic, Cody. All right, how does this sound? I’m giving you a break because eternal suffering gets boring really quickly. You’re becoming inured to it, and I’m starting to lose interest. This way, you bounce back for a while, thinking your life has been turned around, and then I take the hugest of pleasures in knocking you off your perch again. How’s that?’

  ‘It sounds more like you. Which means I probably shouldn’t believe a word of it.’

  ‘Ha! Good response. But the fact of the matter remains the same. I’m a clown down, and you’re a clown up. Make the most of it.’

  ‘How do I know he’s really one of you?’

  ‘I’m sorry?’

  ‘You’re telling me he was one of the four. How do I know that’s true?’

  ‘What did Clueless say?’

  ‘He said the same. Doesn’t make it so. He could be as warped as you are.’

  ‘Indeed he could. So perhaps now you’ve hit the nail on the head. Perhaps that’s what this game is all about.’

  ‘What are you saying?’

  ‘The trolley problem, Cody. The trolley problem.’

  ‘Shit. Not that again.’

  ‘I’m afraid so. But we’ll add another little twist this time.’

  ‘Fab. I do love a good twist.’

  ‘I knew you would. So, our trolley is on its way again, speeding towards our group of walkers on the railway line. This time, though, you’re not able to divert it onto another track.’

  ‘I’m not?’

  ‘No. That’s because you’re observing all this from a bridge that runs over the line.’

  ‘I bet I get a good view from there.’

  ‘You do. And you’re not alone. Next to you is another man.’

  ‘Do I know him?’

  ‘No. He’s not a friend or a family member. You’ve never met him in your life. The only thing you know about him is that he’s fat.’

  ‘Fat?’

  ‘Obese. Enormous. Gargantuan. Big enough, in fact, to stop that trolley in its tracks if he were to be dropped in front of it.’

  ‘Oookay. And now I see where you’re going with this.’

  ‘Well done, Cody. So what do you do?’

  ‘Is that a serious question?’

  ‘Why not? All you have to do is push this guy off the bridge. He’s a saddo, a loser. Nobody will miss him. You, however, will be a hero for saving all those lives.’

  ‘No. I can’t do that.’

  ‘Why not? Earlier on, you were perfectly happy to kill one stranger to save several. What’s the difference now?’

  ‘I don’t know. It’s just . . . different.’

  ‘Is it? A pull of a lever or a push of a body. The outcome is the same.’

  ‘That’s as may be, but my actions are different. I’m more involved. I’m physically acting on the guy instead of a switch. And I’m up close and personal with him. He’s not just some remote figure in the distance.’

  ‘Interesting. So you’re not going to do it? You let the group below die?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Final answer?’

  ‘I’d like to say yes, but why do I get the feeling it isn’t?’

  ‘Because there’s another twist.’

  ‘You do surprise me.’

  ‘Here it is: the man next to you is the guy who interfered with the trolley in the first place. He’s the one who set it free. He’s the one who will be responsible for the deaths of those people on the line. Unless, of course . . .’

  ‘Unless I push him.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Then . . .’

  ‘Go on.’<
br />
  ‘Yeah. I’d do it. I’d push him. He had it coming.’

  Waldo’s laugh is as long as it is disturbing.

  ‘What’s so funny?’ Cody asks.

  ‘You, Cody. You are. Don’t you see? Don’t you realise how full of contradictions you are? You don’t know when to kill and when not to. Sometimes it’s right and sometimes it’s wrong. Life and death aren’t always black and white. There is so much grey.’

  ‘The moral of this story being?’

  ‘That you have to do what feels right to you. There is no right or wrong. There are only differences of opinion.’

  ‘I don’t think that’s always true. Hitler was wrong.’

  ‘Not in his eyes. And not in the eyes of the millions of his followers. To him, the extermination of the Jews was doing his nation a service. He simply had a difference of opinion with those who eventually defeated him.’

  ‘Look, Waldo. We could debate this all day, but I’m tired and I’ve got a clown in my basement. What’s this important message you want to give me?’

  ‘You’ve had it, Cody. You’ve had the message. It’s simply that you now have to decide how far your morality will let you go.’

  Cody suddenly has a sinking feeling in his stomach.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I mean that the man you have in your basement knows more than he’s saying. Much, much more.’

  ‘Such as?’

  ‘Such as who I am, and where you can find me.’

  Cody goes silent for a few seconds while he absorbs this. If it’s true, then for the first time since the clowns captured him, Cody could be on the verge of getting his hands on Waldo.

  ‘He says he doesn’t know you.’

  ‘Do you believe him?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘I thought not. But I’m not surprised he said that. He wants to save his skin. He will deny everything. He may even stop talking altogether.’

  ‘Then what’s the point of this? Why hand him over to me?’

  ‘Because you’re a resourceful man, Cody. And what we’ve just established through our entertaining little chat about the trolley problem is that you are as conflicted as everybody else on this planet. You will do what you need to do.’

  ‘You mean torture him? Is that what you’re suggesting?’

  ‘I’m not suggesting anything. That’s for you and your morals to decide. For all I care, you can set him free. You have the keys. But if you do that, you will never find me. I told you right at the beginning that I was giving myself up to you, but you’re going to have to work for it. You’re going to have to make your prisoner talk. So what’s it to be, Cody? Pull the lever, or not?’

  43

  When the call ends, Cody puts the phone down and rubs his eyes. He is so tired, so mentally drained. What makes it worse is the enormity of the decisions with which he is now faced.

  He has never been in a situation even remotely like this. He has been a captive before, and knows the suffering it entails, but he has never been the prison warden. Yes, he has handcuffed criminals, and yes, he has locked them up in custody cells, and yes, he has played his part in their being put behind bars for long sentences, but this is not like that at all. This is not a part of his duty as a police officer. This is, in fact, very much outside the law. This is false imprisonment. And if he does what Waldo has indicated he might do, it could just be the thin end of a wedge from which there would be no going back.

  But Cody knows he cannot simply waste this opportunity. What he has got hidden several floors below is not merely a man; it is a treasure trove of secrets. Handled properly, it could fulfil Cody’s deepest desires. It could take him directly to the mysterious figure he knows only as Waldo.

  But then Cody’s mind flips back again. You’re a policeman, he tells himself. You promised faithfully always to uphold the law. It’s the code you live by. It sits at the very core of what you are. No matter what he may have done, you cannot keep that man locked up downstairs. You certainly cannot act as his judge, jury and—

  Executioner?

  Really, Cody? That’s in your thoughts? You would kill this man?

  Cody slams his palms down on the breakfast bar and jumps off the stool so abruptly he knocks it over.

  Shit!

  He doesn’t know what to do, what is right. Waldo’s little mind games, his stupid trolley problem, have turned Cody’s brain to porridge. He feels like he is swimming against a tide, getting nowhere, when all he wants to do is stop and drift.

  He goes to the sink, turns on the cold tap, splashes water on his face. He needs to be awake to deal with this. The night is dwindling, the shadows retreating. He has work ahead of him shortly – the demands of a conventional day that seem so mundane in comparison with this night-time carnival.

  But what then? What will he do when the cover of night has deserted him, when he can no longer act unseen and unheard?

  I’ll worry about that when it happens, he thinks.

  Then he picks up his baton and his keys – his three special keys – and heads downstairs once again.

  *

  When he enters the makeshift cell once more, the man Waldo referred to as Clueless gets up from the floor. He stands with his back to the wall, his eyes wide with fear.

  Cody lets him stew for a while. He paces up and down in front of the man, glaring at him unrelentingly.

  ‘Did you . . . Did you get the phone call?’

  Cody lets several more seconds elapse before replying. ‘Yes, he called. Your friend called. He had a lot to say.’

  ‘About me?’

  ‘About you. About the role you played. About what you did to me.’

  ‘I didn’t do anything. I was there, but I didn’t do anything. I didn’t hurt you or your partner.’

  ‘You were there. That’s enough. That makes you responsible.’

  ‘No. I—’

  ‘You acted as one. You had weapons and you used force. If Waldo had come on his own, without the back-up of you and the others, we could have dealt with him. Your support enabled him to do what he did.’

  ‘I didn’t know it would get that bad.’

  Cody’s barked laugh is mirthless. ‘Yeah, right. That’s what they all say. You were just along for the ride. You didn’t know what you were letting yourself in for. You’d be amazed at how many times I’ve heard that bullshit.’

  ‘So . . . so what are you going to do?’

  ‘Do? Well, that depends on you, doesn’t it?’

  ‘Me?’

  ‘Yeah, you, Clueless. That’s how Waldo referred to you, by the way: Clueless the Clown. He seems to hate your guts almost as much as I do. Why is that, I wonder?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Whatever. He hates you enough to hand you over to me, so life as you know it is over. You may as well start telling me the truth.’

  ‘I’ve told you the truth.’

  ‘You’ve told me fuck all. You haven’t even told me your real name. But you know what? I’m not that interested in you. It’s your boss that I want.’

  ‘I told you before: I don’t know anything about him.’

  ‘And I told you that you’re a lying little toe-rag.’

  Cody walks over to the man. He rests the tip of his baton on the man’s shoulder.

  ‘You can probably tell from my mood that I don’t give a shit about you. I don’t care if you live or die. So here’s how this is going to work. If you’re helpful to me, I’ll go easy on you. If you’re not, well, look around you. Nobody will hear or see what I do to you. Nobody knows you’re here. I could kill you now, dispose of your body, and nobody will be any the wiser.’

  ‘You wouldn’t do that. You’re a police officer.’

  Cody laughs in his face. ‘It’s because I’m a police officer that I know exactly how to get away with it. Do you want to test me out? Well, do you?’

  ‘No. Please . . .’

  Cody turns and walks away. The man’s imploring tug
s at Cody, finds some pity within him. He doesn’t want that. He can’t afford to show compassion towards this man, can’t risk displaying any signs of weakness that might embolden him.

  He summons up his fury again before he turns around once more.

  ‘Let’s start again, shall we? What’s your name?’

  ‘I can’t tell you that.’

  ‘Why not? What harm would it do?’

  ‘Waldo told me not to.’

  ‘Waldo isn’t here. I am. And I’m ordering you to tell me.’

  ‘You don’t understand. Waldo is everywhere. He would find a way of getting to me. I can’t risk that.’

  ‘No, it’s you who doesn’t understand. What I will do to you is worse than anything Waldo could ever do. I’m in no hurry. I will keep you here for as long as it takes, and I will make it as painful for you as it needs to be.’ He pauses. ‘But I’ll make you a deal.’

  ‘Deal? What kind of deal?’

  ‘A swap. You for Waldo. You tell me how to find Waldo, and I’ll set you free.’

  The man hesitates. It’s for only a fraction of a second, but Cody notices.

  ‘N-no. I can’t.’

  ‘I have the key to that padlock in my pocket. I can release you from that chain at any time. All I want is Waldo. Give him to me, and you’ll never have to see me or him again.’

  And now the hesitation is longer. ‘You’d do that? You’d let me go?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And all I have to do is tell you about Waldo?’

  ‘Yes. That’s all you have to do. You can go anywhere you like after that. You can leave the country, for all I care. All I want is Waldo.’

  The man lowers his head. Brings his chin down to his chest so that Cody can no longer see his face.

  Cody finds himself willing the man to take the deal. Come on, he thinks. Save yourself. Do something to make up for what you did to me.

  The man’s shoulders begin twitching, and at first Cody thinks he’s sobbing, as though the agony of indecision is tearing him apart. But then he raises his head again, and Cody sees that he’s laughing, silently at first, but then he takes an intake of breath and lets out an almighty roar of hysterical laughter, and it twists into Cody’s gut, burns him inside.

  ‘What are you laughing at?’